The homeless shelter for Voldie
by Noodlejelly
Summary: Voldemort had an accident and lost most of his power and memory, now he’s wandering the streets of muggle London. After seeing the red eyes and shabby robes, a kind passer by realises who he is, a alcoholic homeless man who needs help to recover, awww


Disclaimer: I don't own Peter Pettigrew or Voldemort, they are both property of J.K.Rowling and she will never let anything like this happen to them  
  
A/N: Well here's my new story, it's taken a long time to write, please just give it a chance, it is funny and should definitely make you laugh so just read and review  
  
*  
  
*  
  
*  
  
Peter Pettigrew was whistling happily to himself while cleaning the house, he had every reason to be happy he worked for the meanest nastiest dark lord the world had ever known and had recently found a lucky penny. Basically life could not better in the Voldemort household, the owner of the house was at the moment off plotting the downfall of a particularly annoying young wizard by the name of Harry Potter.  
  
  
  
Peter was absent-mindedly cleaning Voldemort's wand while dreaming of how Remus and Sirius would cower before him begging for forgiveness when he ruled the world with Voldemort. A sickening snap broke him out of his pleasant daydreams, at first he couldn't work out where the snap had come from, everything appeared to be in place and he was still holding the wand in both his hands.  
  
That was the problem, he wasn't holding one wand in two hands, he was holding half a wand in each hand, he'd snapped Voldemort's wand in two. Peter frantically grabbed some sellotape and tried to repair the wand the best that he could, hearing Voldemort's footsteps nearby he threw the half repaired wand on the table and jumped up  
  
'Master, is everything all right? Do you need any help?' Peter cried shaking slightly from fear as he glanced towards the table where the broken wand lay  
  
'Why have you not fed Naigami?' Voldemort's cold drawling voice asked from beneath his black hood  
  
'I'm sorry, I forgot'  
  
'That's not good enough, I'll show you what it's like to really forget' Voldemort liked his pet snake a lot and was very protective over her, which was why he was prepared to go to any lengths to protect her, he was also in a rather bad mood. 'Obliviate' Voldemort picked up his wand without looking at it and yelled the memory charm, the only problem was that it was Voldemort who dropped to the floor looking puzzled  
  
'Oh no what have I done? I'm so sorry master, please don't hurt me' Peter cowered in fear of facing Voldemort's wrath  
  
'Hurt you? Why would I hurt you?' Voldemort sat up looking slightly puzzled, he'd never realised how dirty his floor was, in fact he wasn't even sure if this was his floor and he had no idea who the funny looking fat man in front of him was  
  
'Erm master are you alright?' Peter raised his head from behind the table he was beneath looking rather bemused that all his limbs were still attached  
  
'Is my name master? I never realised' Voldemort was rather unsure about a lot of things, he wasn't even sure his name was Voldemort  
  
'Are you feeling ok?' Peter wasn't really concerned for Voldemort but thought he should at least act bothered  
  
'I want to go daisy picking' Voldemort suddenly announced decisively, the thought had only just occurred to him and he thought that maybe the fat man would help him to make daisy chains  
  
'Oh hell you've lost your memory' Peter realised finally and with a pop turned into a rat and ran away.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
Luckily Voldemort didn't see this as he was too busy on his hands and knees searching on the floor, he looked under the carpet and behind the curtains, even in the tiny cracks in the walls, but finally he had to give up  
  
'I can't find memory anywhere, I hope it wasn't important' Voldemort shrugged as he left the house and entered what appeared to be a small village. There weren't many people around, so he just wandered around admiring the flowers in the garden, he saw an elderly man digging in his garden and decided to talk to him  
  
'Hello my good man, what are you doing?' Voldemort said very amicably, the man looked up and wiped some sweat from his brow as he shielded his eyes against the sun  
  
'Digging' came the short reply  
  
'Can I have a go?' Voldemort thought that this looked even more fun than daisy picking, there were so many bright colours and it just looked happy in stark contrast to the house he had just left  
  
'Don't you have your own garden?' the man snapped rather rudely, he was called Greg and had never liked people interfering when he was working on his beloved garden  
  
'Possibly but I don't have one of those funny things' Voldemort said pointing at the trowel, he had never seen one before because as a dark lord he had never found much time or need to garden  
  
'You can buy one' Greg informed the annoying man who was still blocking the sun from his precise plants  
  
'Really? How fabulous. Where did you buy yours?' Voldemort didn't realise that Greg was being rather rude to him and continued in a very cheery manner  
  
'London' Greg gave the shortest reply possible while still digging up soil  
  
'Which direction is that?' Greg pointed south in reply to Voldemort's question and to his great relief the cloaked man began walking away, with a groan Greg realised that he was attempting to walk to London  
  
'Hang on you can't walk there' Greg didn't want to be helpful, but this guy was obviously crazy and he didn't want any of his neighbours knowing he'd let him walk off the edge of the world, it would make him look very bad  
  
'Why not?' Voldemort wandered back and asked thoughtfully, he had thought walking to London to find a trowel was a rather good idea  
  
'It's nearly 100 miles'  
  
'Do you have broom I could borrow' Voldemort wasn't actually sure how far a mile was, but was sure that if he had a broom he would get there fast, he had once seen the legendary Quidditch player Mahkeb and he'd flown so fast you couldn't even see him  
  
'Look I'm very busy, the bus stop's over there' Greg now greatly regretted stopping him from walking to London  
  
'A bus stop? How interesting I think I'll go there next' Voldemort had no idea what a bus stop was, it sounded vaguely familiar from a long time ago but as he wasn't sure what his name was then it would be unfair to expect him to know what a bus stop was.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
To be honest Voldemort had fallen into the bus stop rather than found it, he wasn't even sure it was a bus stop, it just seemed to be a pole with a sign on it, but it definitely said bus stop so Voldemort stood around unsure of what to do next when a large red double-decker bus pulled up next to him. He stared at it in surprise as the doors opened with a hiss  
  
'Hello, I want to go to London' Voldemort smiled as he cautiously stepped into the bus, he was rather fearful that it might be some kind of trap  
  
'We don't go that far' the bus driver eyed Voldemort suspiciously, it was only her third week in the job and she didn't want to let any troublemakers onto her bus  
  
'Why not?' Voldemort was almost upset, his wonderful plans to go to London weren't getting him very far  
  
'It's not our route we go as far as Bristol city centre' the bus driver said while eyeing the clock, she needed to be at the next stop in five minutes and this man was holding her up  
  
'Then I'll go there' Voldemort decided that Bristol might be as good as London  
  
'That'll be £3' the bus driver grabbed the coins that Voldemort held out and was about to give him a ticket when she realised that these coins were about 3 times too big, upon closer inspection she realised they weren't even real currency. She'd had just about enough of this prankster 'What the hell is this, either pay or get off my bus' she yelled, Voldemort stepped backwards in fear and as soon as he was on the pavement the bus sped off with a very cross driver at the wheel  
  
  
  
Voldemort was left stood open-mouthed watching an open road when another car drove towards him, this one had a large sign on top of it that read taxi, the car called taxi was now next to him and the driver's window was down  
  
'Are you a taxi?' Voldemort was curious to find out just what a taxi was  
  
'I'm a taxi driver, are you going to a fancy dress party?' the taxi driver looked at Voldemort's clothes in interest  
  
'I don't think so, should I be?' Voldemort was surprised, if there was a party then he was late and hadn't got a present, in fact he didn't even know whose party it was  
  
'You're dressed rather funny'  
  
'So are you' Voldemort peered in the window at the strange clothes the taxi driver wore, a weird shiny shirt with badges on, it was in fact a Liverpool shirt but Voldemort didn't even know what football was  
  
'Hey, you can't insult me and then expect to ride in my taxi' the door was slammed shut and the taxi screeched off leaving Voldemort standing in the middle of the street waving merrily with the stick he had just found in his pocket in his right arm, suddenly there was another bus besides him it had hit his arm sending Voldemort's wand flying. Of course Voldemort didn't realise it was his wand so he didn't really care he was more interested in reaching London  
  
'Bloody hell, we almost ran into you, why were you stood in the middle of the road?' Voldemort turned round and a strange sight met his eyes it was the knight bus but of course he didn't know that. The people on the knight bus did however know exactly who he was and there was much shrieking as everyone ran and hid upstairs  
  
'Hello I'd like to go to London' Voldemort stepped cautiously onto the bus hoping to have more luck than last time  
  
'Of course sir, right away sir' Ernie the bus driver was shaking and gripping the wheel so tight that his knuckles had turned white  
  
'My name is sir? I thought it was master' Voldemort scratched his head puzzled  
  
'Here we are' Ernie croaked out, he had broken several speeding laws to make it to London in record time, Ernie had in fact been so fast that Voldemort hadn't even had time to sit down  
  
'Thank you very much, that was fast' Voldemort said politely as he stepped off the bus and looked around wondering where to go next, the bus' doors where shutting but Voldemort just had time to hear the bus driver's last comment  
  
'Blimey Stan, you-know-who was on our bus' Voldemort was now even more confused, why was he called you-know-who, he had been fairly certain he was called Voldemort but nobody had called him that.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
After a few days in the outskirts of London, Voldemort still hadn't found anything to do. He had found a man sleeping on a park bench and assumed it was the thing to do, so he had found his own very nice bench in the middle of the park and a newspaper to cover himself with. He certainly seemed very popular, people kept giving him left over food and some strange coins  
  
'Oh you poor man' a middle-aged woman called Martha hurried over, she regularly came to the park to help the homeless people, it was in her opinion her way of making the world a bit of a better place for all of us  
  
'Who me?' Voldemort shook the newspaper off as he looked round wondering who the woman was talking to  
  
'Of course you, I've never seen eyes as bloodshot as yours, you must have been drinking far too much' Martha bustled over and placed a large grey blanket around his shoulders  
  
'Drinking what?' Voldemort had had nothing to drink except some water from a dog bowl he had found outside a shop  
  
'It's no use pretending you don't have a problem' Martha herself never drank, so she felt it was her duty to help those who did  
  
'But I didn't think I did' Voldemort furrowed his brow in confusion  
  
'It's alright, I'm going to get you some help. First we'll have to find you some new clothes' Martha completely ignored what the strange man was saying only noticing the shabby black robes with mud on them  
  
'What's wrong with these ones' Voldemort was now rather indignant, he didn't know where his clothes had come from but he liked them, they were very roomy and comfortable  
  
'It's some kind of robe, did a priest give it to you?' Martha avoiding touching it for fear of catching some kind of homeless alcoholics disease  
  
'No all wizards wear them' Voldemort actually thought it was this woman who was dressed strange, she had a chequered knee-length skirt and a very well starched white shirt with a long brown overcoat which made her look rather like a very severe librarian  
  
'Oh dear, you must still be drunk, it's strange because I don't smell any alcohol on you' Martha sniffed the air nervously, she thought maybe he had managed to mask the smell of alcohol with the smell of dirt  
  
'I have alcohol on me? Is it dangerous, quick get it off before it bites me' Voldemort said in alarm jumping up and spinning round trying to see what alcohol could be. This only served to confirm Martha's worst fears, the poor man she had found was already drunk at 3 in the afternoon, he clearly needed her help and she intended to help him right away  
  
'Come along, we'll find you somewhere nice to stay tonight' Martha took Voldemort's arm and guided him out of the park, he didn't really want to leave in case somebody stole his bench but didn't want to make the strange mental woman mad so he went along with her  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
'Name' Ben glanced up from the magazine he was reading and saw Martha, he had to suppress a groan, he didn't see any point in helping drunks but he got paid for it so he had to put up with do-gooders like Martha  
  
'I'm not sure' Voldemort looked around his surroundings, he was in some sort of hallway with Martha the strange woman stood next to him clucking sympathetically  
  
'Well what do people call you?' Ben asked as politely as he could  
  
'One man called me sir, another called me master and then I got called you- know-who' Voldemort reeled off the list of names he had so far been called  
  
'Were you some kind of teacher' Ben tried to obtain a satisfactory answer  
  
'No I'm a dark lord' Voldemort said as though it was obvious  
  
'Of course you are, but what shall we call you?' Ben asked through clenched teeth  
  
'I thought I was called Voldemort'  
  
'That's an unusual name, so what's your surname?' Ben was finally getting somewhere as he wrote Voldemort down in the box labelled Christian name  
  
'I don't think I have one' Voldemort said, Ben had to stop himself from hitting this man round the head in frustration  
  
'Ok if you don't want to tell us at the moment, we'll just call you Voldemort, you can have a bed upstairs' Ben was anxious to get rid of these people so he could watch Baywatch repeats  
  
'Poor man, maybe he's a refugee from Albania or somewhere with a name like that' Martha said to Ben who ignored her as she practically pulled Voldemort up the stairs in her haste to tell him all the rules of the shelter.  
  
*  
  
*  
  
*  
  
A/N: So Voldie has ended up in a homeless shelter. Well what weird and wonderful adventure will he have in the next instalment? Unless you all review the answer is none 


End file.
